The Dealer
by Sarruby
Summary: Running from the orphanage, Hiro took to the bot-fight-infested streets, first as a player and then as a dealer. Getting off the streets was just a matter of money and reaching adulthood - or so he thought. Technopath!Hiro, Alive!Tadashi, Not-Brothers!AU.
1. Chapter 1

"And that, is _Little Lucy_, by me, _The Dealer_," Hiro said proudly.

"You little shit," the man in the plain black mask yelled. "You tricked me!"

"Actually, I don't want the winnings," Hiro said, even though he wanted the money. The goons looming over him looked confused at Hiro's words. "I just want to barter a bit. I was hoping to sell _Little Lucy_." The small, snake-like robot coiled up and took a bow.

Mr. Masked - Hiro decided to call him - squinted at him. "Really?"

Hiro nodded, faking fearlessness. A front was necessary for a good sell. "I could have destroyed your robot, but I just flung it out of the ring, didn't I? I could have popped the head off or crushed it easily. You know my bot is better. I'm saying I want to make a trade."

"And what if I don't want to trade?" Mr. Masked sneered. The goons caught on and loomed over Hiro. At height too-short-to-intimidate, Hiro had to remember himself to avoid being intimidated.

Stomach gurgling marbles of nervousness, Hiro nonchalantly shrugged. "Then I walk out of here, harmed or unharmed. And when I get better at building bots, learn more, and build better things, you'll be sorry if you hurt me because I'll never sell you anything and seek out your opponents. Consider hurting me a _very_ bad idea." Hiro grinned, showing off his front teeth's gap. "And consider buying from me an investment in the future. Gotta know where my customers are at."

Mr. Masked waved his goons away. With some suspicion, they backed away into the shadows, leaving just Hiro and Mr. Masked. "All right, brat, what's the trade you're looking at?"

"Your bot for mine, and 800 dollars."

"100."

"700."

"150."

Hiro cocked his head. "I have to buy food and stuff, you know. And parts so I can get better at this. How's 600? I can't go lower than that."

Mr. Masked tilted up his chin and snorted. "Try 200, brat."

Hiro shrugged. "I'm done." He picked up _Little Lucy_ and turned to leave. The door was just in front of him when -

"Wait!"

Hiro stopped, afraid to turn around. Were the goons right behind him? Did his bluff work? Because he _really_ needed some cash, or -

"500 dollars."

Hiro couldn't help a Cheshire-cat-like smile before collecting himself. With an impassive face, he turned around.

"How about $450 and that snazzy fire-breathing lizard bot too?"

Eyes narrowed as Mr. Masked tried to figure out Hiro's scheme. But even he couldn't see through Hiro's black eyes to the real truth.

Hiro was a one-in-a-billion Technopath. He could control anything within about a 20 foot radius that used electricity. With a lot of concentration, he could bring it up to 50 feet, and at the expense of tiredness, he could even power things that took less that 3 AAA batteries' worth of power. Well, he'd never tried for more than a calculator - he might be able to do more, but it'd probably wear him out more.

While useful, he never used it in fights on the other robot. It was only for when his own hands weren't fast enough on his own bot - then he'd bring his robot's full power out technopathically. It's not that he couldn't do it with a controller - just that it was easier. And he felt like he had some honor to uphold, being such a rare technopath. It was also kinda tricky to subtly affect the opponent's bot.

It also meant he could _feel_ the parts and tech around him. Like, he already knew what he was going to design next, because he'd been thinking about that lizard-bot's legs. Product #2 was going to have gecko feet. And for that, he needed Mr. Masked's goon's broken fire-breathing lizard bot.

"I don't remember saying anything about _Hotbot_ here. And I thought you said 600 was the minimum."

Hiro smirked. "More parts, lower price. I'm serious about building and selling."

Mr. Masked glared as he thought. Finally, Hiro heard the magic words.

"Deal."

That was _The Dealer_'s first sale.

* * *

><p>Hiro carved a niche for himself in the bot fighting world. He called himself <em>The Dealer<em>, and he worked hard to make sure people remembered that. Many people had aliases like that, like _Byter_ or _Crayfish_, but he needed a rep to get customers. _That Kid _or _The Kid_ just didn't work anymore.

That's right - Hiro didn't just bot-fight anymore. He sold.

Or, he tried to.

At 10, he had found this hidden world, hidden from the daylight and prying eyes of good members of society, and at 11, he had run away from the orphanage to live in it.

At 12, he was know as _The Kid_. He liked to capitalize the letters and imagine that they meant it as like a sort-of superhero name, but deep down he knew they just meant he was young and dangerous - a hustler, swindler, thief. They knew he would win. He knew that he had a small following - people who would recognize him and walk away with a lot of money in a single night because of him. There were people who liked _The Kid_, people who cheered and whistled for him.

And then there were the sore losers. He didn't think about them.

When the cops had caught him - just once - he'd been thrown back in the orphanage for a week before he escaped again. This time, he knew something would change. He wouldn't just fight - he was going to sell. Then cops couldn't arrest him, he figured.

And so he became _The Dealer_.

* * *

><p>At first, it was just enough to get by. Then word spread throughout the district, and prices went up. No one built bots like Hiro (and no one could control them like Hiro, but they were good enough even without Hiro's extra little technopathic boost). No other bot dealers even came close - many became parts dealers instead. <em>The Dealer<em>'s bots were winners.

Hiro was a little nervous. He was still a loner, living on the streets or in the occasional shelter. He bought a fake ID (it said he was 18, not 14) but couldn't get a real place of his own. Now he was better dressed, better known, and with a long-term gym membership with showers, in better hygiene too - a visibly better target, he thought.

But more so than that, carrying the cash he had was dangerous, and he knew it was only a matter of time before he got in trouble. He left some things in the gym locker, but he considered it far from secure enough.

Which is why he was at the bank.

"You'll need your mom or dad to help you out," the teller said kindly. "You have to be 18 years of age."

Hiro nodded and grinned. "I'm 18. Here, my license says so," he replied sweetly, handing over his fake ID. It even had a fake address on it.

The lady examined it and typed in the address. It didn't exist, and Hiro knew it. It had confused the ID maker, who strongly recommended he pick a real place, even if it wasn't his own - the city network would easily figure out the fraud if the address were nonexistent.

But the ID maker didn't know Hiro had been practicing.

While she typed, he closed his eyes and felt the computer's wiring. He had maybe one chance to do this right. The switches to the network were under the desk, and he could sense the information transferring into the switch and out of his reach. It came back, and Hiro squinted for a second while he scrambled to fix the bits. _There!_

The lady looked at the computer screen, apparently waiting. Then she frowned. "I'm sorry," she said. "I can't verify your address."

Hiro's eyes snapped open. Had he gotten it wrong? Was he mistaken? What -

"Oh!" The teller clicked a few times, but Hiro was too frazzled to feel and fiddle with the computer. Computers were _hard_. Switches were so much easier - they just streamed data in and out, not processing it. Fricking CPUs.

"I'm sorry, I had the wrong window open." She frowned. "That's strange, it normally pops up in this window," she muttered. She shrugged as Hiro choked on air silently in sort-of relief. "Well, no matter. Your address checks out."

She handed Hiro's ID back. "All right then. May I have your social security number?"

Hiro smiled shakily and recited the digits. With a great internal sigh of relief, Hiro signed documents and opened a bank account and got a large security deposit box for five years.

Perfect.

He went into the security deposit box room with the lady and put the most valuable currently-not-in-use parts in his box. He stored most of the excess cash he had in his new account. Things he'd need if everything went sour. But he kept some money, his current projects, tools, and toiletries on hand. And his ID and keys, of course.

As he exited the security deposit room, he kept his head down just in case, but he was noticed.

"Hiro!"

Hiro looked up without meaning to. Not many but the orphanage staff knew his name, and almost ran for it just because he heard his real name. But he was lucky - it wasn't someone who actually knew him. Just slightly better than the orphanage staff, he supposed. But not much better.

It was the goddam pedophile from the gym, stuck in line. The one who had tried to give him some kind of bruise cream after seeing Hiro naked. Who had startled him into giving his name.

_Fuck_. Hiro turned and left quickly before the creep could follow him.

* * *

><p><em>A week earlier...<em>

"What's your name, kid?" a voice behind Hiro asked, just as Hiro was about to put on his underwear. A warm hand landed on his shoulder, and Hiro jumped, startled.

"Hiro," he replied somewhat loudly without thinking. Then he turned around.

It was a much taller, broad-chested, friendly-looking Asian guy, wearing a baseball cap with some kind of logo.

"Hiro, huh? I'm Tadashi." Hiro instantly forgot his name. He only came here for the locker and shower anyway, and this guy probably used the actual gym. Hiro would just be quicker in the future or come at a different time. "Are your parents here?"

Hiro bristled. Why did _everyone_ ask him that? It was so annoying. "I'm 18, I'll have you know. Aging deformity."

The man blinked twice and looked down. In that split second, Hiro guessed the guy had determined that no, Hiro was not in fact 18, regardless of what he or his ID said. Nervous and embarrassed, Hiro went beet red and resumed dressing with twice the speed, turning away. He had to get out of here.

Hiro finished dressing and made to pull out his stuff from the locker. Once again the creeper spoke to him. Hiro mentally named him _Creeper_. Hiro turned to face him.

_Creeper was crouching down to be at Hiro's height. The fuck?!_

"I've got some bruise cream - let me give you some; those look pretty nasty." He put a hand on Hiro's shoulder, stopping him from pulling his bag out of the locker. "Hiro? Are you okay?"

Hiro felt something twist horribly in his stomach. Whatever he was feeling, it felt like an unused muscle - foreign and strained. For a split second, he wanted to accept this stranger's help, to confess his life - that it wasn't fair how his parents died before he could remember, how he tested out of grade after grade and dropped out of high school because of bullying, how he wanted to be a real person instead of some minor with a gift on the streets, how that sore loser got him last week -

How he was so very, very alone.

"I..." Hiro swallowed and remembered himself. "I'm fine."

Then he set off Creeper's cell phone. It was a pretty nice one, from the feel of it.

But Creeper only glanced down at his pocket for a moment before looking back up at Hiro, still focused, hand still _there_. His phone kept ringing.

"Aren't you going to get that?" Hiro asked.

Creeper shook his head. "You're more important. Is everything all right at home?"

Hiro had no idea what to call the gut-wrenching _emotion_ twisting through his stomach. It sounded like Creeper _cared_. Stunned, Hiro didn't say anything until the phone stopped ringing.

Creeper studied him, and for no reason at all, Hiro almost felt like crying - but not out of fear, whom he knew like an old friend, or wariness, whom he was practically married to. No, this was different, and - there was his old friend! - wariness crept up. What was Creeper doing to him?

"It's none of your business," Hiro murmured, just loud enough for Creeper to hear.

Creeper sighed and held out something he'd been concealing in his hand. "Will you take this at least?"

Hiro looked down. A tube of something and a note. It had a phone number written on it along with "TADASHI HAMADA".

With quick feel, Hiro confirmed it was Creeper's cell phone number. It was somewhat mathematical, and Hiro found himself accidentally memorizing it. 913-555-5319 - a palindrome.

"Bruise cream and my number, if you ever need help. With _anything_. I mean it." Hiro looked up at him. Unlike a lot of people Hiro knew, this guy radiated whatever the opposite of intimidating was. Friendly? Kind? He wasn't sure.

Hiro's wariness crept up into fear, whom he also knew well. That's it - he was out of here. And he was going to get a new gym membership, too.

With a flick of his mind, Hiro set off the fire alarms and ran for it. He only took his bag.

* * *

><p><em>Fuck fuck fuck fuckfuck fuckfuck<em>, Hiro chanted to himself, as he pulled himself out of the small dumpster through a side window, cringing at his new injuries.

This was a new district, one he'd heard had more sophisticated bots in the rings - more parts for him. Indeed, it had more interesting parts. But it also meant he had no actual rep - maybe rumors at best, since some of the goons had exchanged glances when he said he was _The Dealer_. But he'd forgotten to emphasize that "don't hurt me or I'll never sell to you again, and that means you lose eventually" point enough.

At least nothing was broken. Just a sprained ankle. And lots of missing parts and toiletries.

Making a mental note to make emergency kits to put in the new gym locker, he thought about how to protect himself better. Like, something that could be small enough to hide in his pockets or clothes but deadly enough to keep people from hurting him.

Thinking... thinking... _thinking_...

The super-efficient magnetic bearings he'd seen tonight! If he could get his hands on a bunch of them, then he could power a mini army with his mind. No problems getting beat up anymore, and he could make super-fast escapes, too!

Hiro trudged back to his own district and slowed down business for a week while he made his own tool. He did a few repairs here and there, keeping a smaller inflow of cash, and helped designed things and sold one more bot. And at the end of the week, Hiro had a new tool literally up his sleeves, coiled around his wrists and in his shirt and backpack and hidden in other places he didn't tell anyone.

He named them _Microbots._

* * *

><p>And so Hiro went back to the new high-tech district, armored this time. Most of the bots were in his bag where they took no concentration, but he kept just enough to make gauntlet-like sleeves under his sweater. He had a headband on too, in case he had to use them - that way, people would guess he had some kind of neurotransmitter, not technopathic abilities. This time, he went to a different bot ring.<p>

It had a weird bouncer.

"This place isn't for children," the broad-shouldered black man said to him. Despite the bouncer's appearance, Hiro felt far less threatened by him than he had other smaller bouncers.

"I'm not a child. I'm _The Dealer_."

A loud snap - bubble gum? - drew Hiro's attention to the right. There, a smaller Asian woman stood. Hiro swallowed and was grateful he'd thought to bring a scarf that covered most of his face as his Adam's apple bobbed with a nervous swallow. "You mean the one that got kicked out of _Yama_'s place the other night?"

Hiro choked. That was _not_ the rep he wanted. "Yea, the one and same."

She raised an eyebrow. "Come on in."

The black guy turned to her in disbelief. "You're kidding me! He's like, 12! Gogo, you _cannot_ - "

The Asian girl stopped the black guy with a snap of her gum. Hiro marveled the volume. "I bet _The Professor _would want to see his stuff. Didn't you hear he won? _Yama_ just flipped his shit."

"That doesn't change the fact that he's a - "

"Wasabi."

"Eh-eh-but - he's - you - "

This time, Asian girl silenced him with a glare. "Better here than anywhere else. We play fair."

She turned to Hiro, who was thoroughly amused by the exchange, though wary. "In you go, kid."

"Thanks," he said quietly as he stepped through the doorway.

"Hi there," a long-haired blonde said as he walked in. "It's a flat fee here. No betting. It's 10 dollars to watch."

Hiro's mouth dropped open, and his scarf slipped down. Pulling it back up, he managed, "How much to fight?"

The woman looked at him, openly surprised. "Oh nonononono-_no_!" she said sweetly. "We pay players to fight! One dollar a win. Or advice from _The Professor_ or whoever's on deck."

Though surprised by the system, Hiro didn't even have to do the math in the lively venue to know that they were making way more money than the fighters. "What about the rest?"

She smiled. "It goes to the employees."

Hiro contemplated that for a sec and attempted some rough estimates. They were nothing compared to his winnings, even if there were only 3 employees.

"And the competition's...good?"

"Top-notch," she said. "We're popular with college students, since we're legal, and our professor - oops, silly me - _The Professor_ is here. If you lose, he gives advice as a consolation prize - so even street players come here to better their bots! Also, a lot of girls come when _The Techman_ is here. He's pretty good, but he's a student, not a professor."

"Haha..." Hiro sort-of laughed, not quite sure what to make of this place.

"Oh!" she exclaimed cheerfully. "I'm Honey Lemon." She stuck her hand out. "What's your name?"

Hiro blanched, though he took her hand. "I'm, uh, _The Dealer_."

"Oh, that's so cute! Well, Mr. Dealer, if you ever need anything or have any questions, come ask me, okay?" she said. Hiro wasn't quite sure what to do about her cheerfulness. It was hurting him inside somehow, in a way he couldn't describe. He didn't think he'd ever met someone so friendly in a bot-fight arena. Not that he liked her - it's just that he really didn't meet many nice people. He nodded and turned to the commotion that surrounded fights.

Hiro ducked and wove his way through the crowd until he was past the spectators. There was a loud monster on stage, commentating. Hiro wondered what the guy inside looked like.

"_Aaaaaand_ look at _Severus the Snake_ go! Holy mother of Megazon, is that snake is _sli-ther-in'_!"

Hiro was mildly surprised to see that his first sale, _Little Lucy_, had changed owners. It looked it was still holding up really well, even without repairs from him. It looked like it had gotten a few upgrades in the quality department too, but Hiro could feel that the design was the same.

In the ring with it was a roughly humanoid thing with a buzzsaw. Hiro could easily see and feel the flaws - speed exchanged for strength in the gears, poor software design in the controls. The pig-tailed woman controlling it was struggling to keep up with _Little Lucy_ - or _Severus_, Hiro supposed - but the snake was simply too mobile for it to even touch. Hiro grinned as the snake coiled around the robot and pinned it to the floor. While strong, the humanoid robot's strength was applied to the wrong places in that position, and it was unable to get out of the grip.

"Oo, ouch!" the commentator exclaimed. "_RoboHobo_ is down! Ah, one! Two! Three!" He got to ten.

"THAT'S IT, FOLKS!" Hiro saw money exchange hands out of the corner of his eye. So this place was _mostly_ legal, he gathered. "Anyone else want to challenge _Le Prue-fess-see-ur_ and _Severus_? Step right up, step right up!"

Hiro looked around, but it seemed all the bot-holders weren't stepping up. In fact, some were looking on with awe at _Severus_.

The man behind _Severus_'s controls was really good, Hiro knew. He realized that he had no idea who the new owner was - just that they were in the room. And then the controller stood up.

Hiro blinked. Masks weren't uncommon in the underworld of bot-fights, but they were just to conceal identities for people who couldn't be seen. This guy, however, had on a Kabuki mask - bright and flamboyant. He was talking to the loser, saying something hushedly, who was nodding and taking notes.

Wow, this place was _weird_.

The presenter saw Hiro and the bot Hiro was holding - _Megabot_, Hiro decided to call it. It was his best yet - just three magnetic bearings, six modified bearings, and some facial work. Perfect for hustling, since it could appear broken.

"You there, little man! I see you've got a bot! Wanna shot?!"

Hesitantly, Hiro nodded. It might be fun. This place reeked of fun and friendly competition, not _fight-bet-win-sell-run_ - or whatever it was Hiro was used to.

As he set _Megabot_ down in the ring, he let it fall sillily. Some people cooed at how young Hiro was, and others laughed.

Nothing Hiro couldn't handle.

"And ready, set, GO!" the mascot man shouted.

Hiro wished that _The Professor_ would take off his mask. It was super frustrating, since he couldn't tell how much of an effect his own actions and demeanour had on the opponent. But no matter - Hiro knew _Little Lucy_ better than this guy - he'd made her!

_Megabot_ wobbled around and waddled toward the snake. Hiro wasn't sure if _The Professor_ would fall for it - but sure enough, he did.

_Severus_ wove its way around Hiro's bot. Hiro pretended to fiddle with the controls desperately, but he actually deactivated some of the magnets. _Megabot_ fell apart.

Hiro was careful to keep a dejected face while he pondered his temporary loss. Now, what would _The Professor_ say? Hiro was simply curious.

"Oooo that looked painful!" the mascot man shouted. "And the battle goes to _The Professor_, once again! Undefeated tonight, like always!"

As he picked up the pieces of his robot, he waited for _The Professor_ to say something - give the loser's consolation prize, whatever. But it wasn't what he expected.

"My advice to you is to play like you mean it. Your robot seems fine enough to me, but you weren't even trying." That was spot-on. Then he went on, to Hiro's surprise. "And I think your controller's a bit small for the nine bearings you have there. You might want to change that."

_Not bad_, Hiro thought. But now he had a chance to sell to this guy. The opponent liked his bot.

"Want to go again?"

_The Professor_ stilled. Then he nodded. "Fred, we're going again."

"Right-o, _Professo_!" mascot-man - _Fred_ - replied. "Aaaaand once again we have _The Professor_ versus the same contender! And ah 3, 2, 1!"

The robots almost danced around each other for a few moments, and then Hiro snapped open his controller to its full width. He grinned. It was time for _Megabot_ to destroy.

The face of Hiro's bot flipped. Hiro wished he could see _The Professor's_ face. _Megabot_ split apart and wheeled around just out of _Severus'_ flexibility range. It ducked and wove until Hiro got the neck caught between all the ball bearings. Then he mashed a few more buttons and popped the head off.

Child's play, really.

The crowd was silent for a moment.

They erupted into cheers.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!" Fred was shouting. "_THE PROFESSOR_ HAS LOST! FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER WITH _SEVERUS_!"

Hiro smiled a little bit. It always felt good to take winners down. But now he had a sale to make.

Rather than take another fighter on, he followed the loser away from the crowd and coughed, following him into a backroom only when the man waved him in. The room was small and cozy. There was a table, a desk, and a few chairs._The Professor_ sat in one of them.

"I'll sell you my bot for 900 dollars," he said, just loud enough for _The Professor_ to hear. "It's a bargain, trust me."

_The Professor_ laughed. Of all things, that was _not_ the reaction Hiro expected.

"Kid, I invented the bearings you used. I could build what I just saw you design."

And there was the last thing Hiro liked to hear. Copycats. Almost never as good as his originals, but still powerful and well-designed bots. It wasn't like there was copyright infringement or intellectual property rights on the streets.

Ugh.

Hiro replayed what the man had said in his head.

Wait.

This guy _invented_ magnetic bearings?!

"Wait - you're _Professor Callaghan_?!"

The man laughed and removed his Kabuki mask. Sure enough, there he was - just a bit grayer than the picture in the back of Hiro's tech book. With a broad nose and shifty eyes, Hiro knew this man was Robert Callaghan.

"The one and same. But don't tell anyone - I actually hoped you'd follow me back here because I'd like to talk to you. Have you ever considered going to college?"

Hiro looked down. He was too young, no guardian, no address. No way. And not enough money, based on his preliminary college search, even if he could keep bot-building full time.

"I can't."

Callaghan frowned. "I don't mean to pry, but why not? SFIT's a great place, and I'm there."

Hiro shrugged. He'd thought he'd be the one making a sell, not the other way around. "I want to, but I really can't. I'm sorry." He paused, but Callaghan seemed to be thinking. "Do you want to buy _Megabot_?"

"No, I should really be designing my own things. Like _Severus_."

Hiro looked up sharply. Most of his customers had the decency to admit that they didn't build the robot, just used it well. Maybe this guy wasn't worth it. But Hiro didn't see any reason to anger him or call him out. It was just a simple note for the future - this guy would steal designs and lie.

It was probably better that Hiro kept his cards close to his chest with this man.

"Hm," was all he said in reply. "Well, I guess I'd better be going then."

Callaghan nodded. "Will you come back to _The Silent Sparrow's_? Here, I mean?" Hiro blinked, filing away the name.

Sure, this guy might be a lying cheat, but the other people had been really nice. And everyone here seemed pretty decent in a friendly but competitive atmosphere. "I guess so."

Callaghan smiled. "I started this place in memorial of my daughter. She passed away a few years ago, and I'd always wished there could be a safe place for young enthusiasts to fight. You know, I think she got into bot-fighting around your age, Mr. Dealer."

Hiro froze, suddenly very uncomfortable. "I'm 18."

Callaghan's smile disappeared for a moment, then came back. "Ah, well, then when she was around 12. Not that you're that young."

Hiro faked a smile and ground out, "I think I'd best be going." He made mental notes galore about this guy - while not dangerous, he certainly had ways of getting under Hiro's skin.

* * *

><p>AN: Wow, this fic just wrote itself. I started with, "Hiro, <em>The Dealer<em>" and wound up with this. Also "sillily". Didn't think it was a word, but whatevs. XD

Please review! Just X or O is fine - O if you're interested, X if this is dumb and I should never bother writing the next chapter(s).


	2. Chapter 2

Hiro would drop by _The Silent Sparrow's_ once every two or three weeks on weeknights, just to look around the strange bot-fight arena. He loved the atmosphere, but he couldn't live on a dollar a fight, even if it was a 100% legally-obtained dollar. He'd never tried to sell there after the first time, since this place was really just for fun, and a great place for him to bounce ideas around and experiment with tech that might not be sellable. _The Professor_ even helped him get a few parts that were out of Hiro's extensive underground reach.

It was maybe his seventh or eighth time back.

"Oh, Mr. Dealer, you're back! Oh, it's so good to see you! You know, _The Techman_ is here tonight. Watch out for all the girls - they're going to go gaga over you!" Honey Lemon informed him as he walked in.

"Hey, Honey. I made a bot I think you'll like," Hiro said. "It uses some chemistry to execute its final move."

"Oh wow!" Honey Lemon had encouraged Hiro to pick up some chemistry, and now they could chat about various reactions when Hiro came in. "What's the reaction? What do you have?"

"Sodium azide, along with potassium nitrate and silicon dioxide."

She looked at him seriously. "I hope you have those in _exactly_ the right ratios."

Hiro recited the amounts he'd put in each pellet of ammo he'd made.

He grinned as Honey's face absolutely lit up. He really liked the employees here. Before, he'd designed a laser-bot for Wasabi, the bouncer, once he found out the man's interest in said lasers. It had electromagnetically suspended wheels like Gogo liked, and the whole robot separated into two parts that fired a powerful cutting laser between them.

That one sold for a lot.

He talked to Honey Lemon a bit more before moving to the center of the arena.

Hiro was at ease. Nothing could touch him here. This place was so safe. He didn't even bother with his normal microbot armbands or the fake neurocranial transmitter headband.

He ducked and wove through the crowd (Honey Lemon was right about the girls). When he got just far enough to see _The Techman_, however, he stopped cold in his tracks.

_It was Creeper_.

Hiro's grip clenched on his newest bot - an inflatable bot that looked non-threatening. It had no name yet, but he was thinking _Bounceboy._

"Aaaand that's the out-of-bounds! Who's next against _The Techman_ and _Shove__bot 2.0_?!"

Hiro froze. He had to leave. This was _Creeper_ - an untrustworthy freak from whom Hiro had barely escaped.

"Oh, it's Mr. Dealer!" a random girl cooed. He felt himself pushed forward, and he stumbled into sight. Creeper looked at him in surprise, recognition lighting up his entire face and posture. Dread twisted around in Hiro's gut, but also a feeling of happy surprise when Creeper smiled friendlily. Hiro quickly quashed the feeling with wariness.

Fred jumped in. "Oo, it's Mr. Deeeeealeeer!" he shouted, drawing out the syllables much longer than necessary. "He's here with yet another fascinating battle bot! What's this guy's name, Mr. Dealer?"

But Hiro's focus was entirely on Creeper. He took a seat opposite the man and rolled his rounded-cube-shaped robot onto the battlefield, not breaking eye contact once. Fred ignored Hiro's social blunder and kept going. "Oo, he's in the _zone_!"

Hiro could run from Creeper after this. No problem. He might as well enjoy the battle.

Fred counted them off and Hiro's bot sat on the field. Slowly, it inflated into an all-white jack-like shape, as if a leg extended from each face of a cube, with a rubber-coated metal plate on the outmost side, like feet. It was too loud to make conversation, but Creeper's bot was hesitant as it approached, as if afraid to touch Hiro's bot.

But Hiro was ready for this. He'd done some chemistry work on this guy, and now it really packed a punch, despite its floppy, harmless look. The point was to get the other guy to underestimate the bot.

Creeper had a standard fighting bot - humanoid with two shields for hands. Cute, but no match for Hiro's bot.

Especially with the way Creeper was playing.

The bot was barely trying to attack. Hiro understood the other bot's strategy was to knock the other out of the ring without actually harming it. But so was Hiro's bot's strategy - with just a little more of a punch.

The inflatable bot bounced around its opponent until it finally got caught. _Shovebot_ was pushing him close to the edge.

Perfect.

Hiro pushed the green button on his control. Inside his bot, some air was let out of the bottom three legs, and it sunk down to be just below Creeper's bot's shields, stabilizing and gripping the ground. The top three legs retracted completely, and then -

_BANG_!

Hiro yelped as Creeper's bot went flying toward him at an unexpectedly high speed. It hit his arm and shot into the crowd, where someone else shouted.

Creeper stood up, surprised.

"Wow, Mr. Dealer, your tech is _amazing_!" Honey Lemon exclaimed from where she watched. "Just like an airbag!"

Ignoring the sharp pain in his left arm, Hiro grinned and made his robot expand to its full size - up to most people's knees. The robot looked harmless in its all-white expanded glory, and he made it wiggle and do a sort-of curtsy-bow to his opponent.

Hiro looked up at Creeper, and his smile faded. The man looked almost angry. He crossed the ring and Hiro didn't have time to think before -

"What were you _thinking_?!" Creeper exclaimed, crouching down in front of Hiro. "With a bot that powerful, you could have been seriously hurt when my robot went flying."

Stunned, Hiro was completely at a loss for words.

"I'm deeming this robot unsafe for battle here," Creeper said flatly with finality, despite Fred and some other audience members' protests. "C'mon, I need to have a look at your arm." Creeper pulled Hiro to his feet and led him to a backroom - not unlike Hiro's first visit with _The Professor_.

"C'mon, sit here."

Hiro was panicking internally. He hadn't thought he'd need his microbots in this place. The people here were so nice, and because of his stupid lack of a headband, he was alone with the pedophile and no means of defense. Not unless he wanted Creeper to know he had technopathic abilities.

Okay, so maybe Creeper wasn't _actually_ a pedophile. Didn't change the fact that he made Hiro feel strange and uncomfortable, even if it wasn't in an entirely bad way. He'd seen Hiro naked, too. Creeper had his back turned as he got something from under a table out of Hiro's view. Now as the perfect time to run.

Hiro stood up just as Creeper turned around.

The man frowned. "Sit. I was just getting the first aid kit."

Reluctantly, Hiro sat down again. He didn't feel afraid of this guy, per se, but he just had no idea how to react to someone who seemed to care about him. Because, Hiro didn't have people who cared about _Hiro_ - just people who cared about Hiro's brains and bots.

Hiro shrunk back as Creeper squatted in front of him, the first aid kit just beside him.

"Hiro, right?" Hiro nodded a little. Creeper gently - not _harshlyviolentlyangrily_ - took Hiro's wrist in one hand and started to pull up his sleeve, but stopped when Hiro drew in a breath of air sharply.

"Does that hurt?" Hiro looked away as he nodded a little. "Hey - there's no need to look so uncertain. I'm just going to take a look and see what I can do."

With almost surgical precision, Creeper pulled Hiro's left sweater sleeve off his arm and held his wrist. He used his other hand to fold up Hiro's red t-shirt sleeve. The robot had scraped past his arm, leaving a nasty bruise, and the friction with the sweater had rubbed through part of Hiro's skin. Specks of blood collected.

"Can you hold this for me?" For lack of something better to do with his free hand, Hiro held the sleeve up while Creeper fished around in the first aid kit. Hiro watched in near-amazement as the man started treating the scrape on his arm.

Maybe Hiro should rename Creeper or find out his real name. Yea, that might be a good idea, since while Hiro's first meeting was awkward and weird because Hiro was unclothed, this guy just seemed like he wanted to be nice. Not that Hiro knew why, but it was nice. He kind of liked it.

He could get used to this kind of treatment.

"Actually, Hiro, I wanted to talk to you about some things."

Scratch that.

This time, Hiro couldn't really pull any tricks because Creeper was holding his wrist firmly so he could apply whatever the foul-smelling cream was. It stung, but he knew it was better than to let it get infected or worse, even if he really, really did _not_ want to talk to this guy about anything.

"Do you remember when we first met? I remember you had a lot of bruises. I'm not going to beat around the bush this time - I stayed up a few night wondering if you were okay. Are you being abused?"

Hiro fidgeted, eyes firmly on his injury. "No."

"Hold still." More stinging as he spread something else around. "Where did you get those bruises?"

"Why do you care?"

"Because someone has to help you."

Hiro scowled. "I'm doing fine on my own."

Creeper looked up sharply at that, startled. "Hiro, do you have somewhere to go home to?"

Hiro was very good at conning people. He had tricked people who had wronged him and fooled many into thinking he was dumb or harmless. His acting skills were well above average.

And yet he didn't want to use them against this guy. Aside from the whole-study-Hiro-while-unclothed thing, he seemed like a pretty decent guy, like the rest of the people working at _The Silent Sparrow_ and unlike many people Hiro knew from less legal venues.

Hiro settled for shifting his eyes from his arm to his lap. His silence would speak volumes, he knew. _No, I don't have a home._

"Hiro, winter's coming. You'll freeze."

Hiro didn't answer. He didn't even know what to feel.

Creeper sighed and got out bandages and gauze. Hiro was not going to look a gift horse in the mouse - bandages were a luxury for him. Creeper focused on the bandages before speaking again.

"Actually, there's another thing. I really liked your robot's design tonight - aside from the explosive inflation part. Can I copy your design?"

Hiro scowled. "Nothing stopping you."

"Yes, there is." Hiro looked at him, surprised. "I don't know your last name. I can't cite you as the source."

Hiro let out a breathy laugh. "You're kidding me."

"Not at all. Can you tell me?"

Hiro swallowed. Flustered by Creeper's surprisingly kind demeanour, he figured that telling this guy his last name wasn't that important. "Hiro Takachiho."

Creeper smiled and nodded once, since their hands were occupied. "Nice to meet you, Hiro Takachiho. I'm Tadashi Hamada."

Weakly, Hiro smiled too. This time, he bothered to file the name away in the back of his mind.

When Creeper - _Tadashi _-finished taping the bandage on, Hiro stood up and grabbed his bag, which had fallen beside him. He was about to hightail it out of there when Tadashi stopped him.

"Hiro, my phone number is 913-555-5319." He put both hands on each of Hiro's shoulders. "If you're in trouble, need help, or anything - if you get _lonely_, even - I don't want you to hesitate. Just call me."

Arm free from Tadashi and able to run, Hiro didn't try to hold back what he really thought or to be polite. "I'm not a charity case, but thanks. Bye."

He turned and ran.

* * *

><p>From then on, Hiro was careful to check online if <em>The Techman<em> would be at _The Silent Sparrow_ on the website before going.

He picked days that _The Techman_ wasn't there, despite Honey Lemon and the others saying that _The Techman_ had enjoyed his battle with Hiro and wanted to see him again.

* * *

><p>Hiro ran his hands through his hair and glared at the library computer.<p>

This was turning into a ridiculous vicious circle, no matter what he tried.

To get a real legal job, he needed recommendations and a mailing address, not to mention some kind of government-standard education or _something_ on a resume so he could apply. To get a P.O. box, he needed an address - and two forms of ID, not just the fake get an apartment he needed past addresses and recommendations - as if Hiro had people who'd recommend him, like an employer, previous lender, or something.

How was he supposed to address his problem of homelessness?!

Fuck addresses.

At least he'd thought to memorize his social security number at the orphanage. It was proving immensely useful.

Hiro sighed and decided to get a P.O. box so he could actually receive mail sent to him. If things bounced from the mailing system and the bank looked into it, he might run into problems. It might also prove useful if he tried to get other things. He'd just have to fake his address again.

And what was he supposed to put down as an emergency contact for half that stuff? He was on the streets, for crying out loud!

_Tadashi_, some traitorous part of his mind whispered.

_Haha, yea, I'll put Creeper down as my emergency contact. NOT,_ the rest of him thought.

Spring turned to summer, and summer to fall, and finally winter breezed on in. Hiro still couldn't figure out how to get an apartment, though he managed to get a P.O. box. But he'd survive without an address, just like he did last year and the year before, in huddles of nice homeless people or shelters or boxes or other warm-ish places. No problem.

* * *

><p>It was a minor miscalculation on Hiro's part, he decided.<p>

He assumed that he was non-threatening enough in appearance that if someone wanted to attack him, they wouldn't bother waiting until he was asleep on a park bench in his ratty secondhand sleeping bag to do it. At least he'd taken the precaution of using his microbots to store his stuff in the evergreen tree above where he slept, just in case of thieves. It was also tied up in a plastic bag in case of rain or snow. The lowest branch was out of any normal person's reach.

Instead of sleeping there though, he was now injured in a dumpster with walls too high for him to climb out of. It smelled awful and he had none of his things. The tech around him was rudimentary, lending no aid to him - just a few wires and a lamp post.

Now he was regretting ever setting foot on _Crayfish_'s turf: the rich district.

Hiro had built up his rep in the high-tech district, and moved on to this district to make more sales. His microbots helped him out of a number of pinches. Occasionally, he'd go back to his home district (if it could be called home - it was just where he had originally opened a bank account and gym membership). It was mostly to check on old customers, keep up thin relations, and get paid for repairs. He'd bargain for parts in the high-tech district.

That was all fine and dandy. Then he wanted to try moving into the rich district.

Turned out things were a little different.

Hiro had been woken up in the middle of the night, and then he'd felt pain in his head and woken up here. He knew it was a dumpster, but it was old and had no side-windows. Of course Hiro wasn't tall enough to get out. It reeked something awful, and it was pitch black inside, save for a tiny sliver of light between the edge of the lid and the box when Hiro jumped up to hit it.

Hiro was fairly sure that at some point someone would walk by and he could bang on the walls or something, although there had been a surprising lack of activity of tech and sound from outside the dumpster. The smell and darkness would have been okay for a while.

No, the real problem was the cold.

The dumpster was like a small room, but the sides were made of metal. They conducted heat well. In other words, Hiro ran a real risk of freezing to death.

A powerful shiver seized Hiro for a moment, but he didn't get up. He'd spent a few minutes trying to jump and knock open a lid or something, but his assailants must have put something on the roof or latched it shut to keep it from opening more than a tiny crack.

This was the worst situation he'd ever been in. Threatened? Check. Arrested? Check. Shit beaten out of him? Check. In danger of dying? Well, not many bot-fighters wanted a murder charge on top of illegal bot-fight betting and assault and battery.

There's a first time for everything, Hiro supposed.

Then Hiro heard a noise. He had no idea what time it was - maybe the middle of the night, since it was _so damn cold_. But someone, _someone_, was on the other side of the dumpster wall.

"Help!" Hiro cried, banging on the wall. The loud banging seemed to echo back at him, and his efforts seemed to sap away what little energy he had left. The metal walls were literally sucking the heat out of him.

"Help! I'm stuck in a dumpster!" Hiro shouted. But whoever it was, they weren't answering. Then Hiro felt the tech around the person.

At waist-height, a smartphone. Watch. High-tech car key.

_Hearing aids_. But at waist height, likely in the bag with the rest of the tech.

Just not in the person's ears.

Hiro wanted to scream. Oh wait - he was. Too bad no one was around who could hear it.

_Fuck fuck fuck fuckfuck fuckfuck_, Hiro thought. He slid to the floor of the dumpster. The person was close enough for him to feel their tech, but Hiro had no way of getting him to look at the dumpster.

He had to think. He was very good at setting off phones, so he sent a thought to the phone to go off - just the command to vibrate. It was enough to make people pause and give him time to escape normally. But Hiro didn't know how to emulate a text or send one on this model.

It wasn't like Hiro could just command phones and computers to do his will or magically read screens or press buttons. To do his bank-address trick, Hiro had camped out at the bank during different people's shifts, secretly feeling up the internet switch while pretending to wait for an older relative. He'd felt the data packets and mapped out which bits represented what information, and when he'd actually gotten his account, he'd felt the returning data and flipped the wrong bits. It also involved a lot of research about data packets and encryption at the library.

Basically, he had to understand the tech to use and abuse it by bending electricity to his will.

Now he had one shot to do something without any prep.

As Hiro hoped, the stranger pulled out their phone and lit up the screen, checking for something, and stopped walking. Hiro felt bits flicker as the user tapped around, trying to figure out what the buzz was for.

Hiro was lucky. Little did he know that this man had missed an earlier text from his wife, and now he made to reply. Hiro's teeth chattered as the man typed out a message and pressed "send".

_There!_ The data packet the phone sent - Hiro took a few guesses at the phone number and message body, modifying two potential phone numbers to match a number he'd reluctantly memorized. Before the phone could complete its final send, he fished around for the GPS. He was familiar with these, having incorporated some into his bots. He overwrote the first part of the message with "HELP ", added the GPS coordinates right after, and let the message send immediately after.

The original sender saw a "Failed!" message on the sending, but Hiro wasn't concerned with that. The man resent his message and it got there fine without Hiro's interference.

Hiro just prayed that his text had gone through.

Hiro sighed, shivering as the man walked on. The tech faded and Hiro could only hope that Tadashi was awake and willing to help.

Then his little genius mind reminded him of something: he'd copied the GPS bits - the raw data that the GPS held, _not translated into GPS coordinates_.

He'd just sent what looked like a bunch of nonsense - garbled 1's and 0's in whatever form ASCII decided it would be in. He knew his ASCII encodings, what bytes to write and all that, but his message would probably look like "HELP &1sk1?*#H " or something unreadable.

"Shit," Hiro whispered. Despite the cold, he wasn't shivering anymore, and that sent a shiver of the wrong kind up his spine.

He might not see tomorrow.

* * *

><p>Tadashi was working on teaching his new healthcare robot when his phone went off. <em>That's weird,<em> he thought. _Normally I don't get texts in the middle of the night_. Especially not at 2 AM.

"Are you all right, Tadashi?" the robot intoned.

"Yea, Baymax, I'm fine. Just got a text."

"Sleep deprivation ..." Tadashi had written the script Baymax was reading. Didn't mean he had to follow it.

Ignoring the robot's lecture, Tadashi rubbed his eyes and opened his phone. The text read "HELP [garbage] text! Yea, I'm okay. See you soon love!" with ASCII encoding.

It was from himself.

Tadashi frowned. This wasn't something he could ignore. It felt like the message had been just "HELP", and he wasn't sure what the rest of it was about.

"Baymax," he interrupted. "I'm going to forward a text to you. I need you to take the corrupted bytes after 'HELP' and trying re-encoding the bits."

With a swift flourish of his fingers, Tadashi sent the text to his robot and let Baymax parse the bits. Unicode, UTF-8, ASCII, Japanese encodings, and just about everything he ordered Baymax to try failed.

Just a bunch of bits.

"Baymax," he said, "just show me the bits."

Baymax's chest display switched from nonsensical symbols to a stream of 1's and 0's.

01001000 01000101 01001100 01010000 00100000 01000000 01000010 11100100 10000001 00011011 10001111 00110001 01001111 11000000 01011110 10011011 10000000 10010100 01000000 00000000 00000000 00100000 01110100 01100101 01111000 01110100 00100001 00100000 01011001 01100101 01100001 00101100 00100000 01001001 01011100 00100110 00100011 00110000 00110011 00111001 00111011 01101101 00100000 01101111 01101011 01100001 01111001 00101110 00100000 01010011 01100101 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00100000 01110011 01101111 01101111 01101110 00100000 01101100 01101111 01110110 01100101 00100001

Tadashi frowned and studied the numbers. If anything, they looked like a mess.

"Isolate the corrupted part and show me just that."

He stared.

And stared.

And stared.

16 bytes.

"Show me them in 8 byte sequences."

Two rows of mess.

He stared some more.

And stared.

And stared.

_Wait_.

"Baymax, try processing these as GPS coordinates. Two double-precision floating-point numbers."

Two numbers popped onto the screen, and then a map appeared behind them with a flag. The numbers pointed to a district in San Fransokyo adjacent to Tadashi's home district and his school's district.

"Baymax, text me that address. We're going there."

* * *

><p>Hiro was half-conscious.<p>

Two more people had walked by, but Hiro couldn't get it together to do much more than bang weakly on the side of the dumpster. He was lying on his side, curled up, just barely not touching the wall closest to what he guessed was the street connecting to whatever alley he was in. Apparently whoever the people walking by were, they were deaf or didn't want to get involved.

Fuck bystanders.

In a few minutes, Hiro knew he would probably pass out and never wake up. Since he was in a dumpster, unless the garbage men noticed _a fricking corpse instead of garbage_ he was toast. And they'd have to catch him before he fell into the garbage truck, too.

Hiro hoped he died before the garbage truck came.

Then he felt something he'd never felt before approach.

A motorbike and a box filled with tech he'd never touched. A chip with instructions so sophisticated, Hiro couldn't even imagine what it could be for, plugged into the strangest of folded-up technology Hiro had ever heard of. Bot-fighters had never built anything like it.

Hiro tried to raise his arm and bang on the side of the dumpster. He wasn't even shivering anymore, he was so cold. His hand kind-of patted the wall, making the faintest noise he'd made yet.

There was a muffled sound on the other side of the wall. It was distorted by the metal and foreign to Hiro's ears. More interesting to him was the amazing technology on top of the motorbike.

Oh - and a phone! Hiro felt for it and tried to set off the ringer. But his concentration failed, and he only managed to mess with something in the software. Oops. He hoped it wasn't vital or anything.

"Help," Hiro whispered.

Then the strange technology started to move. Hiro grew scared - he didn't think he could do much to it, considering he had no idea what it was. Actuators, motors, sensors, sensors, _sensors_, processors, chips, cameras - Hiro had _no idea what it was and he was a champion bot-builder_.

It was a little scary how it unfolded. And - inflation devices? Like his _Bounceboy_'s?!

A few moments later, and Hiro was aware it had taken a vaguely human form. If it was a monster coming to get him, he couldn't resist. He was too cold and weak to move.

* * *

><p>"Baymax, ow," Tadashi said, activating the robot from its box. He'd brought it on the back of his moped. If someone needed help, Baymax could help Tadashi figure out what to do first-aid wise and then get back in his box so the victim could ride behind him on the moped.<p>

"Hello, I am - "

"Hi, Baymax," Tadashi interrupted. It was funny how rude he was to his own creation - it barely had a chance to finish talking when he was around. "I need you to scan everything you can around here. Do you see anyone or anything?"

Baymax waddled in a circle, his eyes unblinking as they scoured the area. "There are signs of: life, in that direction," he said haltingly, pointing down a narrow alley.

Tadashi swallowed and walked down it. "Hello?" he called.

A faint thud answered him from the dumpster.

Tadashi took a moment to unlatch the lid before opening the lid up completely. He peered inside.

"Hiro!"

* * *

><p>AN: Thanks for the response! I hope this is going okay... if you have any ideas, let me know!<p>

Please review! O for "Yes, plz continue" and X for "No, that's enough, you're doing this wrong" is totally fine.

Also, super-duper kudos to any reader who can figure out what location the coordinates actually point to. :-) Yea, I'm a computer nerd, and _actually encoded coordinates in binary up there in the text_. Don't forget space gets a byte. 3 You will get a mention if you get it! XD


	3. Chapter 3

Tadashi frantically pulled himself over the rim of the dumpster, landing beside Hiro, who was curled up on his side. He started sitting up as Tadashi dropped into the near-empty dumpster.

"Hiro!" Tadashi said again, a little quieter. "Can you hear me?"

The small boy nodded but didn't make eye contact. At least he managed to sit up. To Tadashi's horror, he wasn't shivering despite the freezing temperature of the dumpster.

Hastily, Tadashi put his jacket around Hiro's shoulders, pulled Hiro close to his chest, and tried to think of what to do. Hiro was obviously unhealthily cold, but he wasn't unconscious. Tadashi wanted to contact the authorities, but he still was concerned that Hiro might have an abusive family or caretaker. More than that though, Tadashi was under the impression that Hiro would run a mile at the mention of authority.

"Tadashi?" a small voice asked. "Can you h-help me get out of this dumpster? Th-that's all I need."

Tadashi looked down at the small boy in his arms. "You really should see a doctor." Even before Tadashi had finished speaking, he could feel Hiro shaking his head. "All right, then you're coming home with me and seeing the next best thing."

"N-next best…?"

Just then, a voice interrupted them from outside the dumpster. "Hello, I am Baymax, your personal healthcare companion."

Without breaking Tadashi's hold, Hiro twisted around and looked at the wall of the dumpster with something akin to fear in his eyes. "What's that?"

Tadashi frowned. 'What' rather than 'who'? He'd have to work on the voice – it wasn't human enough, apparently. "That's Baymax, my school project. He's going to help a lot of people, starting with you."

Tadashi couldn't see Hiro's face, but he could feel the skepticism rolling off the boy in waves. "Baymax!" Tadashi called. "I'm going to pass a child over the wall of this dumpster – catch him on your side, okay?"

"Yes, Tadashi. I am ready: now."

Hiro twisted around in Tadashi's loosened grip and looked up at him. "Let's get you out of this dumpster, yea?" When Hiro nodded his consent, Tadashi grabbed him by the sides of his chest and held him up so he could get over the wall of the dumpster. With a little more pushing, Hiro climbed on top of the dumpster wall. But upon seeing Baymax, the boy stopped.

"Hiro?" Tadashi asked. He had his hands on Hiro's lower back, supporting him as he sat on the edge of the dumpster wall. "It's okay, Baymax won't hurt you," Tadashi said hesitantly. He wasn't entirely sure if that's why Hiro had stopped.

Wordlessly, Hiro dropped into Baymax's arms.

Tadashi hoisted himself up and over the wall of the dumpster after him.

"Okay, Baymax, here's your new patient, Hiro Takachiho."

Baymax held Hiro in a bridal-style fashion, as if he'd just caught the boy. Hiro's eyes were half-lidded, but he seemed tense. At Tadashi's words, Baymax's body lit up, an internal warming light glowing on.

"I will contact emergency services now."

"Wait – no – " Hiro protested, trying to twist out of the robot's grip. But he lucked out – Baymax failed to do so.

"I have attempted to contact an ambulance using Tadashi's phone, but the signal is malformed and I was unable to do so. Your phone may have contracted a virus," Baymax said. "In the event that there are no cell phones around, I require Wi-Fi access to contact a hospital. There are no open networks around us."

"No, buddy, we're taking him home," Tadashi corrected. "He'll be fine, I think, once he's in a warm place."

Baymax cocked his head, and Tadashi almost laughed at Hiro's confused expression. Yes, he'd tried to make the robot as human-like or friendly as possible. It even _blinked_, which was a totally unnecessary feature he'd spent an hour working out.

"Hiro requires immediate hospitalization and neurosurgery due to the – " Baymax's voice screeched suddenly. Tadashi jumped, not expecting a malfunction just then. Hiro flinched, though he made no move to get away from the still-warm robot.

"Whoa, whoa – I thought we were past this!" Tadashi exclaimed unhappily. "Baymax, stop, stop, stop!"

The ear-splitting screech stopped. After a brief pause, Baymax said, "I have experienced unusual interference with my voice modulators. As I was saying, Hiro requires immediate hospitalization and neurosurgery – " _SCREECH_.

"_Stop_!" Tadashi shouted. The blaring noise stopped. "Baymax, he'll be fine. Let's get him home first and sort him out there, okay? Don't contact emergency services. Hiro will be upset and might run if we do. Just tell me what's wrong when we get home."

Shivering just a little bit, Tadashi started walking down the alley until he hopped on his moped. Baymax followed him. Using his robotic legs, he clamped onto the back of the moped, holding Hiro between himself and Tadashi. About halfway through the ride, home, Tadashi was pleased to feel Hiro shivering again – a healthy sign.

Though Tadashi too was shivering, he grit his teeth and looked forward to Aunt Cass's hot chocolate. It wasn't much further.

* * *

><p>"Who's this?" Aunt Cass asked as Tadashi walked in with Baymax trailing behind him. She had been watching a television show, and had decided to stay awake until Tadashi came back home, given the unusual hour.<p>

"This is Hiro – remember the kid I mentioned from the gym?"

"Oh!" Aunt Cass's voice sounded surprised, then apprehensive. "What happened?"

Hiro twisted into Baymax's arms, still shivering despite the warmer interior of the café. When Hiro failed to answer, Tadashi stepped in, introducing Aunt Cass to the boy. "Hiro was in trouble and called me for help. Hiro, this is Aunt Cass. She adopted me when I was seven. She's the sweetest lady you'll find in all of San Fransokyo. This is her café, and we live upstairs."

Hiro turned a little bit to look back at her, and around the café. He kind-of nodded

"I think he's probably not feeling well," Tadashi said, moving to get mugs for hot chocolate, "and might be a little shy too."

As he passed Aunt Cass, the lady coughed and asked, "Why do you smell like garbage?"

"I found him in a dumpster. It was latched shut so he couldn't get out – though I think the walls were too high for him to get out on his own anyway."

Aunt Cass frowned. "That won't do. Go take a shower, Tadashi. I'll get the hot chocolate," she said, reading Tadashi's mind. Hiro watched as Aunt Cass stepped behind the counter to take Tadashi's place as he stirred the drinks.

Tadashi nodded, looking at Hiro. The boy was only somewhat responsive, and seemed content to stay in Baymax's warm arms for the time being. At least he wasn't shivering as violently as before. "Okay. Baymax can give Hiro a sponge bath if he isn't up to showering. Hiro?"

Hiro's eyes had closed at some point, but they opened again upon hearing his name. "What?"

"Do you want to shower or take a sponge bath?"

Hiro blinked slowly, processing what Tadashi had said. "What's a sponge bath?"

Baymax answered before Tadashi could. "Sponge baths, or bed baths, are used to bathe people who are bedridden or unable to bathe on their own due to health reasons. Giving a bed bath involves washing, rinsing and the entire body one section at a time while the patient remains in bed. A good bed bath will leave the person feeling clean and comfortable."

Hiro stiffened and twisted out of Baymax's arms. He stumbled a bit but didn't fall. Tadashi could tell he was weirded out by Baymax's explanation. "I'll take a shower, thanks," Hiro said quietly.

"I'll use the downstairs shower. You can use the upstairs one," Tadashi said, motioning for Hiro to follow him. Hiro trotted up after Tadashi, waving shyly to Aunt Cass as they left.

* * *

><p>Ten or so minutes later, Hiro was clean and stepping out of the shower. He put his hand on the wall to steady himself. Since he'd started warming up, he'd felt almost <em>too<em> warm. At least he was still able to concentrate well enough to trip up Baymax's voice modulator, though he felt bad about Tadashi's cell phone.

Maybe he could fix it sometime when Tadashi wasn't looking. He'd have to remember what bits he flipped.

After he dried off, he realized that he didn't have any clean clothes. Or any clothes at all – someone had apparently snuck in while he was showering and taken them. They should have been on the toilet, but now there were none.

Just then, someone knocked very quietly on the door. If Hiro had been showering, he was sure that he would't've been able to hear it.

"Yes?" Hiro asked, wrapping the towel around himself.

"It's Tadashi. Lucky for you, Aunt Cass is a pack rat and managed to dig up some of my old pajamas. Do you want me to pass them in?"

"Okay," Hiro replied. The door opened a crack and a hand jut inside, holding some simple blue and white pinstriped pajamas. A pair of small-ish boxers dangled from below. With a mix of gratitude and helplessness, Hiro accepted them.

"How are you feeling?" Tadashi asked. The door was still open wide enough for a hand to pass through.

Holding the clothes close to his chest, Hiro pondered the answer. His body felt too warm, and he sometimes felt a bit dizzy – as if he were sick. "Okay, I guess."

"I'll have Baymax scan you again once you come out," Tadashi said after a moment. "Then you can have your hot chocolate and go to bed."

"Thanks," Hiro said, careful to keep his tone light and neutral.

"See you."

"See you," Hiro murmured. The door closed.

Looking down at the pajamas in his hands, Hiro thought about what Baymax had tried to say. _Hiro requires immediate hospitalization and neurosurgery due to the numerous foreign objects in his cranial cavity._ It had been written out in text, and a text-to-speech program sent it to the voice modulator. That's where Hiro had stepped in.

As he dressed, Hiro thought. He wasn't sure what that meant – as far as he knew, that meant there were things inside his skull, and maybe his brain. But Hiro hadn't had any head trauma for as long as he could remember, let alone 'foreign objects' being inserted into his skull or whatever Baymax was saying.

The main problem, though, was that the robot would probably tell Tadashi about the 'numerous foreign objects' when Hiro wasn't around or not paying attention. Hiro had a feeling that Baymax wasn't malfunctioning – and that those objects might be related to his technopathic powers.

But that opened up another can of worms. When Hiro was little, his father (his mother having passed on already) told him that he was very special – a one-in-a-billion technopath. He had been told never to let anyone know about his powers, lest someone try to use him. Like a good boy, Hiro had never mentioned them to anyone.

Yet his father had never mentioned any "foreign objects in his cranial cavity".

"Hiro?" Tadashi called. "You okay in there?"

Dressed, Hiro stepped out into the bedroom, which was now split into two by a partition. To his surprise, Tadashi had had 2 beds in the loft. "Yea, I'm done."

"Baymax is by my bed, since that's where his charging station is."

Plodding over to the occupied half of the room, Hiro swallowed as the tech in the room spoke to him. Well, not really – but there were just _so many_ things, and they were mostly complicated. Hiro wanted to play with them, explore – but right now there was another piece of tech actually speaking to him.

"Hiro, please open your mouth."

Obligingly, Hiro let Baymax look into the back of his throat. Still, Hiro felt off-put by the deceptive appearance of the robot. Normally, he was the only bot dealer who make bots that distinctly sought to deceive others into thinking they're weak or harmless; yet this robot was ten times scarier in its potential and ten times friendlier-looking.

Its arms and legs had the potential to crush Hiro's skull into tiny fragments and then throw his corpse across the city, if Hiro's rough calcuations on the strength of its actuators and motors were correct. Needless to say, Hiro hesitated just a bit before dropping into the killer machine's arms back at the dumpster.

Hiro also couldn't read Baymax. Its AI was too complicated, and that threw him for a loop. He could interfere with some of the operations he recognized, but the robot was scary in that it was beyond his control.

But it was also so, _so_ cool.

The robot he pondered over bent over and examined him. Then Baymax leaned back and reported. "Hiro's throat is inflamed, and his body temperature is slightly above normal. Diagnosis: acute upper windpipe infection."

Hiro was smart, but if there was a field he knew little about, it was medicine. "Meaning?"

Baymax held up a finger. "You have a cold."

"Oh."

"In that case," Tadashi said, proudly looking at Baymax, "what should we do?"

Baymax listed off a few basic things to do for a cold. Hiro wasn't listening though – he just wanted to go to bed.

Hiro blinked as he registered that Tadashi had said something. "Sorry?"

"You're going to stay here until you're better."

Hiro blinked again. He wasn't about to argue – a private shower, pajamas, a bed – but he felt weird just using up this guy's hospitality. Hiro didn't really live here – he was a guest, and he wondered if was actually okay to stay for a night.

At least Tadashi didn't seem like a creeper anymore.

"Um… okay?"

Tadashi smiled an open, overly kind smile that Hiro wasn't sure he'd ever seen on anyone else's face. Hiro kind of returned it, but a yawn interrupted him.

Tadashi laughed and ushered him into bed instead.

* * *

><p>The first thing Hiro felt when he woke up was fear.<p>

He'd been dreaming – he was sure of it. But he couldn't remember about what – just that there were bright lights in it.

Calming himself with deep breaths, Hiro blinked slowly and took in his surroundings. A cozy room, with a desk against the wall and few objects on it. The other side of the room had a sliding door, and there was another door in the room, too. Stairs led to somewhere, and rafters told Hiro was in the top of some building. Hiro was in a bed, covered by a warm and thick duvet.

It felt too home-y.

"Hiro? You awake?" a familiar voice called up the stairs. Tadashi.

"Yea," Hiro gurgled. He coughed, clearing his throat. "Yea, I'm awake."

Tadashi was already up and dressed, probably. It made Hiro wonder what time it was. How long had he been asleep while Tadashi was awake?

"Aunt Cass made cinnamon rolls – you'd better get dressed and come down here quick, before I eat them all!"

Hiro looked around the room. On the chair by the desk, his street clothes waited for him, apparently washed and folded neatly.

Wow. First-class treatment, much?

After dressing, Hiro joined Tadashi in the kitchen, but Aunt Cass was nowhere to be seen. Tadashi's reply to Hiro's asking about her whereabouts was a simple, "In the café downstairs, working."

Tadashi handed Hiro a plate with a cinnamon bun, eggs, and orange slices. "Eat up – we're going out after you're done."

Hiro nodded. While wanted to know where, food came first. It wasn't often he got to have a meal like this. Most of the time, he subsisted on cheap processed food, like granola bars or other packaged things, because it required no preparation and stayed clean.

The fork felt foreign in Hiro's hands as he tried poking the eggs with them. Sunny-side up, the yolks jiggled before bursting. Hiro smiled a little bit as the yellow goop bled all over the whites.

"That's how you like, them, huh?"

Hiro's head jerked up sharply. "Uh – yea. Thanks."

Tadashi grinned. "Anytime."

With that, Hiro ate quickly, now curious about where Tadashi wanted them to go. He ignored how his throat protested at each swallow and instead focused on finishing quickly.

* * *

><p>"Where are we going?"<p>

"The mall – you need some new clothes."

"I'm not a charity case."

"I didn't say you were."

"I don't want new clothes."

"You need them."

"No, I don't."

And so the argument continued as Hiro reluctantly followed Tadashi into the mall.

Hiro glared as Tadashi starting picking from a clothing rack.

Then Hiro had a brainwave. He had absolutely no reason to stay here. He had a rough idea where this mall was in relation to other landmarks in San Fransokyo, and he could walk his way back to where his things were, probably still hidden up in the tree he'd left them in.

Yet somehow, that felt _wrong_. Hiro had no idea how to put it into words. He just kind of stared at Tadashi as the older boy picked out a few bright, new t-shirts.

Yes, Hiro could run right now. Tadashi would never be able to keep up with Hiro, the master evader and escape artist of the streets and alleys (when he wasn't stuck in a dumpster). Hiro could disappear while Tadashi pulled some cargo pants off the rack.

"What's going on?" Hiro blinked, and suddenly Tadashi was kneeling in front of him, looking at him with _too-much-I-can't-breathe_ concern. "You look conflicted."

"I…" Hiro didn't know how to say that he'd been thinking of running, because Tadashi was looking at him so caringly – just how Hiro imagined an older brother or parent might.

"I was… trying to think of how to repay you," Hiro managed quietly. Not a complete lie – Hiro did intend to repay Tadashi, but that wasn't why he was making that face.

Tadashi smiled warmly. "You aren't indebted to me. But if you _really _want to, you can repay me by getting over that cold and staying warm."

Hiro looked down as he nodded. He wasn't sure how to reply to that.

* * *

><p>With a few new outfits and a warmer sweater, Hiro trailed after Tadashi as he strode out of the mall.<p>

He'd seen the cashier's little glowing sign: $298.87. Cheap for the amount of clothes, but a larger sum than Hiro might have spent on clothes in the first place. He didn't like the idea that he would be in Tadashi's debt, regardless of what Tadashi said. Somehow, Hiro would make it up to him – but first he needed his things.

"Can we get my stuff?" Hiro asked suddenly. They were nearing Tadashi's moped.

Tadashi stopped by his moped and turned to face Hiro. "Of course!" he said cheerfully. "Do you know how to get there?"

Hiro nodded and described roughly where the park was in relation to a few other landmarks. Tadashi nodded as he processed the location, eventually coming to a realization.

"Then that means home is on the way there – we can drop off these clothes. C'mon, let's go."

Hiro smiled a little bit as he held onto Tadashi and the shopping bags. The ride was short and uneventful.

When they got back, however, Hiro followed Tadashi through the back – through what Hiro immediately deemed Tech Heaven.

Because that's _what it was_ – a 3D printer, multiple computers, tools, power tools, sensors, parts, motors, actuators, parts, outlets, rulers, tape measures, pens, pencils, scanners, batteries, charging stations, _parts_, partial robots, complete robots, remotes, tablets, smart phone pieces, mother boards, transmitters –

Hiro was sure his face must have been glowing.

"Hiro?" Tadashi asked. "You with me?"

"Huh?" Hiro blinked and realized he'd been visually and technopathically taking in his surroundings, completely forgetting Tadashi was even there.

"This is where I do some of my homework," Tadashi said simply. He looked a little unsure at Hiro's reaction to the space. "I'm also something of a robotics hobbyist."

"This – I – you – THIS IS AMAZING!" Hiro finally managed. He huffed, trying to think of something to say. "How – but – " Nothing coherent came out, but Hiro was thinking at a million words a second.

He could build _so many_ bots here. There were pieces of tech he wanted to hold in his hand, play with, deconstruct, and build with. From the wall socket to the mysterious half-built robot on one of the tables, Hiro knew this was heaven.

Tech Heaven.

Tadashi only smiled at Hiro's enthusiasm. "You're welcome in here – just be careful, yea?" Hiro nodded quickly, racing over to the half-built robot.

There were several little motors – expensive parts for Hiro on the street, but cheap if you had a mailing address for online shipments. Inside was a shaft with gears and more and – just, _wow_ this robot was half-built, but Hiro could think of 20 ways to complete it that would make it a powerful fighter. A winner he could charge gobs of money for.

Hiro barely registered Tadashi sitting down at a computer. He was too busy running around, finding new half-built projects and parts and _this was magic_.

After a few minutes of exploring, Hiro was interrupted.

"Um… Hiro?" Tadashi interrupted. "Did you want to get your things?"

Hiro blinked, snapping out of his trance. He'd never been in a real workshop – _ever_ – and this place was unbelievable.

"Right," Hiro said. "Can I still come back here?"

"Of course – Hiro, you don't have to ask that. You're always welcome here."

Hiro nodded, not really registering that Tadashi was offering him more than just time in Tech Heaven. He was still distracted by all the tech around him.

"So… do you want to get your stuff? I looked up the parks in the area, and I think I found the one." Tadashi pointed at the computer terminal.

"Right," Hiro said, a little put out at the fact that he'd have to leave Tech Heaven. "Um, thanks, Tadashi." He managed a quick smile.

Tadashi grinned and ushered Hiro out of what to him was simply the garage where he did his homework and hobbies.

* * *

><p>As Hiro stood by the park near where he'd been abducted, he realized there was a slight problem: Hiro's things were up in the tree, thanks to his microbots, and out of any reasonable person's reach.<p>

He had no way of getting it down without Tadashi learning about his technopathic powers. Hiro was also disinclined to use his powers in broad daylight, but he also desperately wanted his things. He could pay back Tadashi and get some parts of his own.

"Your things are around here?" Tadashi asked. "In the bushes, then?" The quiet park was full of gardens and bushes and trees. They were in the middle of it – and Hiro's things were too. If he could just get Tadashi to leave…

"Yea," Hiro said faintly, trying to think of a plan. The microbots would make some noise as they left the tree. Tadashi would have to be far away or distracted or something. But Hiro had to be kind-of close to the tree for him to use the microbots.

Tadashi nodded and walked into the park, leaving Hiro to his thoughts and unknowingly solving Hiro's problem.

_Now_, Hiro thought. _It's now or never_.

With a wave of a mental wand, the microbots flooded out of his backpack and clutched the tree, carrying the bag with them. They twisted and winded around the trunk, cascading and slithering down its bark.

Caught up in conducting the microbots, Hiro didn't notice Tadashi return.

"Hiro, I didn't find your – HOLY FUCK!" Tadashi yelled.

The ground dropped out from under Hiro's feet as he turned to see Tadashi standing there, staring. Dread crawled up Hiro's body like spiders, and he couldn't breathe. Tadashi _had seen him use his technopathic powers_. Shitshitshitshit.

Tadashi stood as still as a statue, staring as the microbots froze. Hiro's backpack hung proudly off the side of the tree. Eyes like saucers and face frozen in fear, Hiro stared at Tadashi.

"Is that… your stuff?" Tadashi asked quietly, totally stunned.

The moment snapped, Hiro turned back to the microbots and commanded them to descend the rest of the way. His heart pounded in his ears and his feet were light, ready to run. Snatching up his things, Hiro turned his back on Tadashi. The microbots crawled into the backpack.

"Are you controlling them?" Tadashi asked quietly. "You're not wearing a neurotransmitter…"

"You didn't see anything," Hiro hissed. "Nothing happened." Hiro wheeled around on one foot to face Tadashi, suddenly angry at the overly magnanimous boy. "We never met."

Tadashi opened his mouth to reply, but Hiro was already running. Running, because he didn't know what else to do. Sprinting, because Tadashi was right behind him. Flying, because Hiro's father's warnings were echoing in Hiro's ears, ringing like temple bells. He ran.

But it seemed lady luck wasn't on Hiro's side – that, or he should have actually used the gym's features like Tadashi did. With an "oof", a heavier weight slammed Hiro to the ground of the park.

"Hiro, wait!" Tadashi said. "I'm not going to hurt you or – "

"_Fuck you_," Hiro hissed. Tadashi wanted to use him. Tadashi was going to hurt him. Tadashi was evil, because he knew what Hiro could do.

The microbots crawled out of the backpack and coiled around Tadashi's arms, lifting him off of Hiro. To Hiro's amazement, Tadashi stayed calm. He just looked worried at – at _Hiro_?!

"Hiro, how are you – "

The microbots slammed Tadashi to the ground as Hiro stood up and leaned over him.

"Tadashi," Hiro interrupted, eyes dark as midnight, "I could kill you right now."

_Kill anyone who finds out_, Hiro's father's voice echoed. _If anyone knows, they will use you. They will hurt you. You can't trust anyone but me with your secret_.

"Hiro – "

"Shut up," Hiro hissed. The microbots tightened around Tadashi's limbs, and Tadashi flinched. "I have to kill you now."

For the first time since seeing the robots, something akin to fear crept onto Tadashi's face. "Hiro?"

"I have to…" Hiro turned away from Tadashi.

He had to obey his father. His father was right. This was bad, so very, very bad.

But Hiro really, really, really didn't want to hurt Tadashi. He _liked_ Tadashi. Tadashi was the first person to really care about Hiro since his father died. He was the first person to figure out Hiro's powers.

Hiro tried not to cry. He cursed himself for putting tactile feedback in the microbots. He could feel Tadashi's heart pulsing under the bots, could feel Tadashi breathing, _would_ feel his body being crushed as Hiro squeezed the life out of –

Hiro couldn't do it.

_But he had to_.

Hiro sank to his knees. He couldn't do it. He couldn't.

_They will use you. They will imprison you, test you, never let you go_. Hiro's breathing hitched as he leaned over.

Just a few thoughts and Tadashi would be dead, killed by microbots.

_Do it._

_No!_

"Hiro? Can we talk?" Tadashi pleaded, interrupting Hiro's inner turmoil. "If you don't want other people to see your things, you should put them away."

That's right - they were in a public space. If Hiro killed Tadashi here, other people might see. The microbots slinked away from Tadashi and into Hiro's backpack.

Hiro carefully didn't look up as Tadashi crouched down next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "I think we need to talk."

* * *

><p>AN: ;~; I'M SO SORRY… This be late. :-( I hope you liked it anyway!<p>

X/O?


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